Sunday, September 1, 2013

Why I Distrust (Some) Doctors

Okay. Listen. I don’t like doctors. My history with doctors has been this: I go for a checkup and they find shit. Then I have a surgery to remove shit. Then I find out, the shit was benign anyway.
And when something IS wrong with me, then they say it’s all in my head or they can’t find a reason why shit is wrong!
In my 20’s a lump on my neck was discovered. “We need to remove it!” Ok. Woke up feeling like shit after surgery, and then was told, “we couldn’t remove the whole lump, because it was next to nerves and we didn’t want to paralyze you but we’ll need to go back in.” They were able to remove enough to rule out cancer, but then they wanted to go back in and test it for more things. Um, and risk being paralyzed? Nope. I’ll take my chances. I like my smile the way it is. If I’m meant to die, so be it. 6 months later, the lump disappears.
Numerous times my regular pap smears come back irregular. Biopsies (painful!) show all is well. I start to think this either just a way to get money or the lab people are really really careless.
At a regular checkup, a lump is felt in my breast. I’m having no issues. But MUST GET MAMMOGRAM. Then MUST TAKE IT OUT. Omg. This is it! I have cancer! Nope, I don’t have cancer, I just have cystic breasts. Hey, you know what, it might have been nice to have told me that BEFORE suggesting I have surgery.
Between the faulty false paps and the faulty false breast lump (and of course, the faulty lump in my neck) – I decided not to go the GYN any longer. It seemed everytime I went for regular checkup, it turned into a medical disaster.
All was well for awhile. Then in 2006 I had heart palpitations. I was working 2 jobs, long shifts, my sleep was messed up. I was worried, but knew as a medic it was probably nothing to really worry about as I didn’t have any of the usual signs/symptoms. But one night palpations wouldn’t let up and I started to have chest pain so off to Doylestown ER I went. My blood pressure was low – I was throwing PVC’s and PAC’s left and right. They were able to control them with Lopressor and sent me home. I had follow up tests and though they said everything looked good (though I had a shit ton of PVC’s on my halter montitor) – they tried to give me a script for Lopressor. I have low blood pressure normally. I explained that it probably wasn’t wise for me to take it. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine!” Yeah right. I tried taking them at home only to discover I would get super dizzy going from a sitting to standing position. Not something I’d want to do while taking care of patients on the ambulance, so I threw them in the garbage and eventually, when my shifts slowed down, so did the palpations.
In 2007 I had breast enlargement surgery (which I regret! They look fabulous but really, looking back, not something I needed to do.). During pre-admissions I told them about my history of palpations but that the doctors had cleared me, said I was fine. My ECG looked great and bloods looked great. Then during surgery, I went into bigeminy and trigemny. The nurses said the docs were NOT happy with me when I woke up. What the fuck? I was TOLD I was fine and had an ECG that said I was fine presurgery, so it’s not like I didn’t warn them.
So that, and some other minor incidents, are why I usually would rather stay away from hospitals, doctors, and “physicals.” It seems when I do have medical problems, they tell me I don’t. And when I don’t have medical problems, they tell me I do. I believe there are great doctors out there  (I have had a few!) and the trick is finding them. If you have limited money or health insurance, this makes it extremely difficult. Frankly, the whole system is a mess…sometimes I can’t blame the doctors with the amount of regulations that make their job even more difficult. Just remember. You are in charge of your own body. Just because someone is wearing a white jacket doesn’t mean they know better than you. Educate yourself. Get copies of your records. Get second opinions. Or third. And most importantly, raise your voice – to family and friends. Sharing your stories is what protects other people or just gives them something to consider or reassurance. You can either be clued or screwed – happiness is not up to others, it’s up to you. You’re welcome for that cheesy nugget of advice.



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